The Thousand-Day Streak of Lies

For ten years, I believed my long-distance relationship with my architect boyfriend, Griffith, was unbreakable. I was building a successful career, convinced our love was the one constant I could count on. That illusion shattered the day I saw his phone. A thousand-day Snapchat streak wasn't with me. It was with his intern, a girl he called Kallie Sunshine. His apology was a cold, duty-bound marriage proposal, followed by him taking the fall for her career-ending mistake at his firm. In the middle of the chaotic company lobby, as he was sacrificing everything for her, she delivered the final blow. "I'm pregnant with his baby!" she shrieked, a triumphant smirk on her face. "And you're just a bitter old hag who couldn't keep her man!" Ten years of my life, my love, my future-all reduced to a humiliating public spectacle. He chose to protect his "little muse" while I was just collateral damage. I slapped his face, threw the ring at his feet, and walked away. This time, I wasn't just going back to my apartment. I was leaving the country for good.

Chapters

Chapter 4

Cayla Cherry POV:

Griffith stood frozen for a few seconds, his face a mask of disbelief. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. Then, a sudden, violent motion. He grabbed the delicate ceramic mug I' d seen earlier, the one Kallie left, and smashed it against the kitchen counter. Shards of ceramic flew, one stinging my cheek.

"Is this what you want, Cayla?!" he roared, his voice cracking with a terrifying anger I'd never heard. "Is this what it takes for you to be satisfied?!" He snatched his phone from his pocket, furiously scrolling, then deleted Kallie's contact, her number, every picture. He threw the phone onto the table, the screen cracking. "There! She's gone! Are you happy now?"

I stared at him, my heart hammering against my ribs, not from fear, but from sheer shock. This wasn't the Griffith I knew. This was a volatile stranger, his eyes wild, his jaw clenched. I felt a cold dread creep over me.

He didn't wait for my answer. He swept his arm across the table, sending the stack of magazines, the credit cards, the ring box, all crashing to the floor. The diamond ring rolled under the refrigerator, glinting mockingly in the chaos. "You think I don't love you? After ten years? You think this is what I wanted?"

He advanced on me, grabbing my arms, his grip bruising. "You're being unreasonable, Cayla! You're always so damn stubborn!" His words were venomous.

He shoved me backward, and I stumbled, falling hard onto the polished wooden floor. The impact jarred my teeth, and a sharp pain shot up my tailbone. I looked up at him, tears blurring my vision. My Griffith, the gentle giant who would never raise his voice, let alone a hand, was gone.

The man I remembered would spend hours listening to me, patient and kind. He would bring me soup when I was sick, his touch soft and reassuring. This man, standing over me, his face contorted with rage, was a monster.

"Ten years, Cayla! Ten years I've put up with your career obsession, your long-distance demands! Do you know the pressure I'm under? My parents are constantly asking about marriage, about a family! I'm doing everything I can, and you accuse me of not loving you?"

My throat was thick with unshed tears, my body aching. I couldn't speak. The gap between us, the chasm of misunderstanding and betrayal, felt too wide to bridge. We were speaking different languages, living in different realities.

Suddenly, his phone, the one he' d just smashed, vibrated on the table. Not his work phone, but his personal one. It was a familiar, chirpy notification. Kallie. Again.

His eyes darted to the phone, then back to my prone figure. The rage on his face softened, replaced by a frantic urgency. He looked like a deer caught in headlights. "I… I have to go," he stammered, already moving towards the door.

"No!" I screamed, finding my voice. I scrambled to my feet, grabbing his arm. "No, Griffith, you don't! You choose! Right now! It's her or me!"

He wrenched his arm free, his fingernail scratching my skin, leaving a thin red line on my forearm. He didn' t even notice. "Don't be ridiculous, Cayla. This is important. It's a work emergency. You calm down, okay? I'll be back as soon as I can. We'll talk then."

He was already at the door, pulling it open. "Just… clean this up, will you?" he tossed over his shoulder, gesturing vaguely at the shattered mug and scattered items. Then he was gone, the door slamming shut behind him.

I watched him go, the image of his panicked face, his desperate rush, burned into my memory. It wasn' t a work emergency. It was Kallie. Always Kallie. The urgency in his voice, the way he abandoned everything to answer her call, it screamed a truth even louder than the broken mug.

I stood in the wreckage of our home, the physical manifestation of our broken relationship. My body ached, my heart felt like it was tearing apart. The floor was littered with debris, a symbol of the ten years we had just shattered.

My phone rang, startling me. It was Justin. "Cayla," he said, his voice strained. "I just heard... about the lawsuit. It's bad. Really bad. And Griffith... he's taking the fall for Kallie."

The words sliced through the last shred of my hope, confirming the betrayal, solidifying his choice. It wasn't just an emotional affair anymore. It was his entire career, everything he had worked for, sacrificed for her.

Continue to next part

My husband, a Mafia Underboss, built me a perfect life. I was the Chief Resident at a top hospital, the accomplished Dr. Falcone. But my world shattered when a woman brought her four-year-old son to my clinic. The boy had a rare genetic allergy—one that runs only in my family. On his intake form, his father’s name was listed as "Emilio Thomas," my husband's secret middle name. Then, my husband’s voice came through the woman’s phone, and I saw him pick them up from my office window, a perfect, secret family. That night, at our family's most important gala, the boy ran up to me, screaming, "You're the bad lady trying to take my daddy away!" The crowd turned on me, whispering that I was the other woman. On the boy's wrist was the custom bracelet I gave my husband on our first anniversary. When I reached for it, Emilio shoved me. I hit my head on a table, and a sharp pain ripped through my abdomen as blood soaked my dress. I lost the baby I didn't even know I was carrying—the legitimate Moretti heir. My husband turned his back on me, leaving with his other family as I bled on the ballroom floor. He never visited me in the hospital. His mistress, Hayden, did. She gloated that she’d planned it all, and that Emilio swore he'd never have another child after their son was born. I was just a barren, placeholder wife. But this was more than a betrayal; it was a declaration of war. That night, I stared at two pink lines on a pregnancy test I’d taken before the gala. I was six weeks pregnant with the true Moretti heir, and now, I had a weapon.

Mafia Modern Romance

7.2

FLASH MARRIAGE: His Revengeful Wife

7.2

Lauren Sterling gave up her career to support her boyfriend, Julian Drake, believing his words that he and his family lived for privacy. But it was nothing but a lie. He had only replaced her with her best friend. On the day they were supposed to get married, he left her waiting. Out of desperation, Lauren Sterling married a stranger! Alexander Ashford. The man who gave her three months to take her revenge. In a dangerous game where revenge collides with betrayal, dangers and secrets. Will Lauren Sterling survive?

Action Modern Romance

9.7

From Mafia Wife to Rival's Queen

9.7

After fifteen years of marriage and a brutal battle with infertility, I finally saw two pink lines on a pregnancy test. This baby was my victory, the heir that would finally secure my place as the wife of mob capo Marco Vitiello. I planned to announce it at his mother's party, a triumph over the matriarch who saw me as nothing but a barren field. But before I could celebrate, my friend sent me a video. The headline read: "MOB CAPO MARCO VITIELLO'S PASSIONATE NIGHTCLUB KISS!" It was him, my husband, devouring a woman who looked like a younger, fresher version of me. Hours later, Marco stumbled home, drunk and reeking of another woman's perfume. He complained about his mother begging him for an heir, completely unaware of the secret I held. Then my phone lit up with a text from an unknown number. "Your husband slept with my girl. We need to talk." It was signed by Dante Moretti, the ruthless Don of our rival family. The meeting with Dante was a nightmare. He showed me another video. This time, I heard my husband's voice, telling the other woman, "I love you. Elara... that's just business." My fifteen years of loyalty, of building his empire, of taking a bullet for him—all dismissed as "just business." Dante didn't just reveal the affair; he showed me proof that Marco was already stealing our shared assets to build a new life with his mistress. Then, he made me an offer. "Divorce him," he said, his eyes cold and calculating. "Join me. We'll build an empire together and destroy him."

Mafia Modern Romance

8.4

Grandma's Ultimate Sacrifice

8.4

After Thanksgiving, Grandma insisted I take a herbal remedy. Her voice was filled with fear as she said, "The holiday's over, and it's coming back. Once you've taken the remedy, scales will appear on your body when it shows up." Back in the city, my boyfriend Kendrick couldn't wait to get close. The moment he hugged me, an unbearable itch spread across my back. I reached around to scratch and felt several hard scales. The cold, slimy sensation sent a shiver down my spine, like an electric shock. Kendrick teased, "How come you're so sensitive after just one holiday?" I couldn’t believe it and ran my fingers over the spot several times, only to confirm it wasn't an illusion. Beneath those scales, it felt as if countless tiny bugs were sucking and wriggling. The deep, relentless itch made my nails dig painfully into my skin. At the same time, an uncontrollable chill crept through my body.

Fantasy Horror Modern

8.3

He Cheated On Me, So I Became His Aunt!

8.3

Ava couldn't be any happier after realizing the due date for her delivery. Excited and all, she comes back home ready to deliver the good news to her husband, Matt, only to stumble upon him buried deep into the lady whom he claimed was his younger cousin sister. The betrayal hit different after learning the whole truth from them, they intend to make her death look like an accident and take away her inheritance afterwards. They both succeeded in making her fall off the terrace which unfortunately made her lose the pregnancy and her life. Few months later.. The appearance of a wealthy heiress who looks exactly like the late Ava causes a storm in the city after Ryan Manchester, Matt's Uncle, introduces her as his wife. Was it really Ava? or was this all a game carefully crafted?

Billionaire Modern Romance

9.1

Husband Proposes to Mistress

9.1

I never expected to discover the truth on such an ordinary Tuesday afternoon. Downtown bustled with its usual energy as I navigated through crowds, shopping bags swinging from my arm. The spring air carried the scent of food carts and fresh flowers, a perfect day for my errands before heading home to prepare dinner for Harrison. That's when I saw them. Across the busy street, partially obscured by passing cars but unmistakable in the afternoon sun, stood my husband. His tall frame and dark hair were as familiar to me as my own reflection. But it was his posture that stopped me cold—the intimate lean of his body toward the woman before him. Kataleya Price. His secretary. I froze mid-step, causing someone to bump into me from behind with a muttered apology I barely registered.

Billionaire Modern Romance

The Thousand-Day Streak of Lies

Chapter 4

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